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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27940226">Pitter-patter</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Notawriterjustalurker/pseuds/Notawriterjustalurker'>Notawriterjustalurker</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Dad!Matt [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Daredevil (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, Pregnancy, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, heightened senses, nausea and other pregnancy things, warning for very soft dad Matt</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 22:33:50</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,042</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27940226</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Notawriterjustalurker/pseuds/Notawriterjustalurker</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on a Tumblr prompt from thecarelessvoice —</p><p>'Like can anyone give me a karedevil fic where Karen is pregnant and her sense of smell gets heightened??!!!'</p><p>That's the fic!</p><p>Unexpected second chapter added for all your dad!Matt needs!</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Matt Murdock/Karen Page</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Dad!Matt [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2211222</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>32</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>62</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheCarelessVoice/gifts">TheCarelessVoice</a>.</li>



    </ul></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><br/>
How many things had to go wrong before you could realistically qualify something as a disaster?</p>
<p>
  <span>Karen isn't sure exactly, but tonight was supposed to be about them. The three of them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And so far, it had been nothing but a nightmare.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Okay, so maybe a nightmare was an over exaggeration.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Karen was doing that a lot lately – exaggerating things – but that wasn't her fault, was it? That was hormones, or whatever.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Right about now they were supposed to be tucking into a delicious curry (vegetable Madras) her favourite, since she'd decided to go veggie. But now instead she finds herself hunched over on Matt's bathroom floor, hair pinned back, while he runs gentle circles over her shoulders, listening to her voice bounce around the inside of his toilet bowl. Glamorous.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I've ruined our date haven't I?" Karen sighs out defeatedly. Matt chuckles, eventually kneeling down beside her out of pity. Or it feels like pity. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When it's finally safe to lean back she props herself up against the pleasantly cool tiles to face him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Of course you didn't," he says. But he has to say that doesn't he? Especially now that Karen has an awful habit of bursting into tears at the drop of hat. "We can go another night," he reassures her, "when you feel better."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Karen looks up at him, trying her best to express her thankfulness but his face is only successful in making her feel more guilty. It's enough that he's taken the night off the streets for her, no doubt sacrificing some innocent person's safety by way of his absence, and now she can't even stand the smell of their favourite curry place.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I don't know what happened… I uh, I just… I could smell…" Truthfully, she'd smelt it before she could see it; the barrage of mixed spices hitting the back of her throat like hot smoke; the odor of frying onions — a smell she normally loved — causing her stomach to twist in knots.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I think it might be the hormones," Matt offers.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>What's new? And how come Matt knows more than her anyway? She's the pregnant one.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You've been researching." It wasn't a question.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He shrinks back shyly, his lips twitching into a smile. "It helps," he says, moving to cross his legs under himself, clearly starting to feel the hardness of the floor on his knees. "With the thing we talked about.."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Karen sighs. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The feeling useless thing.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They </span>
  <em>
    <span>had</span>
  </em>
  <span> talked about that. Actually, Karen had lost count of how many times they'd talked about that.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Matt…" she gives him a look. But she isn't angry, she can't be. Because aside from how well he suits that concerned dad look, the fact that he cares so much makes her chest physically ache.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I know, I know." He rolls his eyes and brushes his fingers through his hair. "I'm trying."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She knows he is. Being Matt Murdock is a struggle, after all.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>From the beginning, he'd known everything. First, by proving two negative pregnancy tests wrong, then by hearing every heartbeat, every movement, every microscopic fluctuation in hormones and blood pressure, and the rest. And yet, he'd been powerless to do a single thing to help any of the unpleasantries that came with it. And in the process, he'd overlooked his own value as usual, forgetting how when he was around, Karen was safe in the knowledge that everything was okay, like being constantly rigged up to interactive ultrasound; and a good looking one at that. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Speaking of which, he'd made an effort in that department tonight — and apparently that was only adding to her guilt — choosing to wear that maroon shirt she insisted he buy a few months ago because it clung just right around his chest and waist... </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And now she's looking at him lustfully, the way no woman should ever look at a man from her un-lustly position sprawled out around the base of the toilet.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"What do hormones have to do with my sense of smell anyway?" She eventually replies, flustered.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Matt moistens his lips. "Well,… it, erm. It can heighten things. Or, so I've read. Taste too."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Interesting. And there I was thinking Daredevil junior had gifted me some of their dad's powers."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Matt bursts into a grin. "Ah ha. Yeah, I don't think it works like that."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Shame."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You should really eat something, though. Keep your energy up." Matt's expression quickly morphs back into something closer to quiet concern as he holds out his hand for her to latch on to. She takes it and he pulls her up. "I'll make you some food if you want. Name it. Anything you like."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Anything?" </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Anything."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She thinks for a moment but draws a blank.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"What about pancakes?" He suggests. Her weakness – he knows it. " ...Blueberry pancakes?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Karen's eyes grow wide. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"But it's 10pm."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"And…?" Matt frowned. "Is there some kind of  pancake curfew I don't know about?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She chews her lip. "No…"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Well then."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Karen tries her best to contain her giddiness over the prospect of Matt, not bruised and broken and stumbling in at early hours for once, but instead, donning an apron and spatula. She nods out an 'okay' as Matt disappears into the kitchen and she hears him rummaging for a frying pan while she takes the opportunity to slip into some more comfortable clothes and freshen up with some mouthwash which she's sure he'll be grateful for.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A minute or two later she hears the oil sizzling, and she smells the batter as soon as it hits the pan, the hunger-inducing scent of it drawing her closer until she's standing at Matt's back, getting under his feet, impatiently waiting for him to turn out the first one.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Apparently her caveman instincts kick in then because she finds herself more than considering eating them dry, piping hot, straight out of the pan, at the sacrifice of her fingers.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Matt interupts her intrusive thought.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Syrup?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Uh , yeah." Of course syrup. She pours some on. A generous amount. Maybe she could just...</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Matt…" she says tentatively. "Is it bad that I want… syrup </span>
  <em>
    <span>and</span>
  </em>
  <span> chocolate?" </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You want —" Matt's nose crinkles. He knows that she means that cheap, chemically chocolate sauce that's normally reserved for ice-cream — Matt wouldn't touch it with a barge pole. "Okay.." he agrees hesitantly, handing her the bottle over her shoulder.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You think I'm disgusting don't you?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"No judgement here," he shrugs. He's lying. He had all the judgment.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Karen doesn't care though; she squeezes the chocolate sauce out to generously cover her already syrup soaked pancakes, grinning in satisfaction at her creation before she sticks her fork apologetically into the resulting mush.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Mm-hmm," she nods. "A masterpiece, really Matt. Your finest work."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He laughs. "Really?" </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"The best pancakes I've ever eaten…"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Wow."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I can taste…Mhmm. Everything's so…"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"What can you taste?" He's humouring her, probably, and patronising her? Slightly. She should be offended, but his hand is on her back, sliding round to rest on her still very small bump and she can't really think straight through the warm fuzzy feeling that's filling her. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Happiness. She's pretty damn sure that's happiness.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"The blueberries are more…" Suddenly her wordiness evades her. "Blueberryish?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Blueberryish?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Mm-hmm. And the chocolate is…."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Is it chocolately-er?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Yes!" Karen says seriously.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You know there's no actual chocolate in that chocolate sauce right?" </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Shhh," she hushes him. "Don't ruin it." He was always doing that; ruining things with facts. Who even cared? She has pancakes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She turns just enough to awkwardly plant a kiss on the corner of his mouth. "Thank you."For this."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He purses his lips. "It's just pancakes."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"No I mean…" she gives him that look again. "You know what I mean."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He exhales against her, kissing the sensitive spot just behind her ear.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Anything for my girls."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Karen's eyes shoot open again. "Girls?" She grips his shoulders, searching for truth in his face. "Girls, pural, girls?" But he's already wearing a look of impenetrable innocence. "You can't know that can you?" She presses "can you?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He shrugs and smiles sweetly, almost as sweet as her pancakes. "It's just a hunch." </span>
</p>
<p><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>I guess Matt was right in his predictions....</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Pandemic got you down? (Same) Here's some more dad!Matt because I'm told that we're lacking in it 😂 hope this makes you feel fuzzy</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Karen opens her eyes and squints.</p><p>She's sitting on the couch again, unsure of the time or how she got here, drifting in and out between blackness and an offensive haze of interchanging neon. </p><p>She's used to it, though. Harsh, but comfortably familiar. Sleep draws heavy on the back of her skull, tipping her head forward towards the warmth in her arms.</p><p>She flinches into alertness again, bolt upright, at the sound of another shrill cry and a satisfied gurgle as lips separate from her skin. Karen shifts her gently, rocking her as she props her over her shoulder, already embracing the evitable trail of sick soon to be trickling down her back.</p><p>"It's a sign of a good meal, they say. Vomiting afterwards," Karen chuckles to herself, shaking her head briefly at the ridiculousness of her own voice refracted out loud into the empty room.</p><p>She thinks she's alone – talking to herself. It wouldn't be surprising. Just another step further into the rabbit hole of strange things she's caught herself doing since her sleep pattern completely evaded her. </p><p>But then she hears the unmistakable click and <em> rasp </em> of the latch on the roof access door. The hinges are rusty and the noise is louder than it should be. The door creaks open and a gust of pleasantly cool city air cascades inwards, raising up all the hairs on her arms.</p><p>She wonders whether it could really be that late. </p><p>How long had she actually been sitting here? </p><p>Matt's already on the stairs, descending step by step, his shape, black and sleek but soft. His whole demeanour softer, since she arrived.</p><p>"Either I'm delirious," Karen touts, "or you're back early." </p><p>Matt smiles, his teeth glinting in the low light. "I'm sorry I, erm..I was thinking about — " He pauses to fidget with his empty hands before pulling off his mask, hair fluffy, his fingers running through it. "How is she?"</p><p>Karen sighs. "Well... she's not hungry at least. But she won't settle. I've tried everything."</p><p>Matt kneals, close and listening. He pulls on the middle finger of his leather glove, stripping it away from his hand and Karen sees it in the shape of his lips; the words. So hushed it's like prayer.</p><p><em> I missed you. </em> </p><p>He runs a finger over her temple, her cheek, her mousey brown hair, a shade or two lighter than his, and Karen watches her tiny body react blindly to the touch — eyes barely open. (Apparently the Murdock genetics run deep because they're brown too) Her miniature fingers and toes curl into the air and Matt finds her hand. She grasps his finger lightly and he smiles. "Heyy," he whispers. "Hey it's me."</p><p>All Karen has to do is watch, really, even in her exhausted state, to feel her heart swell.</p><p>From the minute they'd bundled her into his somewhat apprehensive arms at the hospital bedside, after hours of uncertainty, and pain, and pacing. So much pacing — he'd been completely and utterly infatuated with her.</p><p>"You're gonna make your mom cranky. Keeping her up all night like this." </p><p>Karen bites her lip. She's not used to hearing him call her that yet.</p><p>"You wanna try?" Karen asks, half expecting him to decline but instead, Matt nods eagerly, pinching at his lip. "Yeah. Yeah okay."</p><p>She gestures at his midriff. "Take your shirt off." It's a good excuse.</p><p>Matt raises a brow suggestively. "Now, Karen? Is that really appropriate?" </p><p>She laughs and then quickly suppresses the sound, nudging his shoulder with her elbow instead. "For the baby, Matt," she clarifies, Although she certainly isn't going to complain about the view. "They like the skin on skin thing. Remember?"</p><p>He removes his other glove and stands, pulling at the elastic cuff of his armoured long sleeve until the fabric glides upwards over his arm, lifting at his hip. "For the baby then," he teases. Karen shoots him an exaggerated eye roll, turning away, if for nothing else but to prove a point. But when he thumbs the back of his collar, his face disappearing behind a veil of black stretchy fabric she ultimately succumbs to the temptation.</p><p>"Not bad."</p><p>"Thank you. I try."</p><p>She'd flick those obnoxiously tight abs of his if she had a free hand. She'd wipe that grin off his face too.</p><p>"You got her?" Matt slips his hand underneath Karen's arm to transfer her weight, his palm cupping the back of her head, almost covering it entirely.</p><p>"I got her."</p><p>She hears his outwards breath, steady, but nervous, and then a fresh, piercing cry at the readjustment; quiet enough in the dead of night to rattle the windows. </p><p>Matt doesn't flinch.</p><p>She watches as he negotiates the sharp corner of the coffee table, more confidently than she ever could, while he simultaneously tucks her in closer, wraps her blanket tighter, bouncing her slightly as he walks. She cries again and he hushes her.</p><p>"Oh I know, sweetheart. I know. <em> Shh.</em> I'm here now. I'm here." His feet carry him over to the space in front of the wardrobe and he does a slow lap, a circle, sure to tread only on the floorboards that don't squeak underfoot. Karen folds her legs under herself and pulls a cushion on top of her knees for warmth, watching. </p><p>It's become apparent as of late that she has a man who can do both.</p><p>"So talkative tonight, huh?" he says when she wriggles and screams some more. "Wait until you start asking questions." His head twitches in Karen's direction. "Like your mom." He chuckles and then silences it into a kiss placed delicately on her brow. "Don't even get me started on your grandma. <em> Phew </em>."</p><p>Karen grins. Or she wants to. It's more of a thin press of her lips, tired and wiry. Barely a smile at all. But her chest, <em> aches </em>. So full, and content, and in love with the moment.</p><p>Everything is perfect. Totally perfect.</p><p>Matt lowers his voice again. A low, breathy rumble that vibrates through the air. "I like it really, though," he whispers, "you girls, bossing me around. But don't tell. It's our secret." He moves towards the relative darkness of the bedroom and Karen tracks him as he turns his back, the defined muscles of his shoulders, the deep groove of his spine, painted in rich purples and pinks and cool blue hues.</p><p>Her cries dissipate into more broken, babbling sounds as he perches on the side of the bed and Karen sinks into the leather in relief, sucks in a lungful of the quiet, savouring the sound of it while it lasts. </p><p>Matt's still talking, but its more of a whisper now, soothing in all the ways Karen is so familiar with. She feels safe.</p><p>When the babbling sound fades, Matt bends over the crib and places her down, leaning his elbows against the wood frame with an arm still extended outwards. His touch, lingering too long. Too hard to peel himself away.</p><p>"I think she's asleep" he says when he eventually wanders back into the living room. "More or less."</p><p>Karen smiles and sighs out, crossing her arms. "Matt Murdock, 'the <em> baby whisperer.' </em> Who knew? <em> " </em></p><p>Matt shrugs. "What can I say I have a way with women." </p><p>"Ah ha. Well you'll have to do better than sweet talk to impress me, Casanova."</p><p>He lands with a smirk, weightily on the couch next to her. "Oh yeah? What like?" Slipping his arm around her back, he squeezes the opposite shoulder. Otherwise known as the smoothest move in the movie-date hand book — although Karen's almost positive Matt's never actually pulled it at the movies.</p><p>Her cheeks flush predictably warm regardless. "I can think of a few things."</p><p>Matt purses his lips, still naked from the waist up. Vigilante, from the waist down. The contrast is almost comical.</p><p>"Well let me know, what<em> things. </em> And I'll uh...see what I can do." He follows with a slow lean in and presses his lips the corner of her mouth, her temple, then butterfly kisses all the way up into her hairline. Karen bows her head until she's resting in the crook of his shoulder. "And you're okay?" He asks.</p><p>Karen nods. "Better than okay."</p><p>"Good." He threads her fingers into hers, intertwined, and she finds a comfy spot where her body molds just right into his, nestled under his armpit and bathed in the warmth and comforting scent of him. The smell of home. </p><p>"Are you going back out?" She asks, silently hoping, but never expecting. He answers without hesitation.</p><p>"No. Not tonight."</p><p>"Matt... you don't have to stay in because of me, you know. I can handle things here. People out there still need you." </p><p>"I know they do, Karen, but," he's silent for a moment. Karen watches his pupils move loftily towards the ceiling before they come to rest in line with her lips. "I need a new suit," he says. "A better one. Something with more protection." He squeezes her hand. "For Grace."</p><p>Karen smiles. Mostly relieved, because it's taken him long enough. "I like that idea."</p><p>"I figured I can't protect her if I'm not —"</p><p>"Matt.." she runs her fingers under his chin. "Don't. You're worth keeping around." She turns his face until their lips align again like a promise. "I'll do some digging. Don't worry. We'll find someone who can help." She doesn't mean for the last word to latch in her throat, causing her mouth to stretch open into the yawn she's been struggling to hold back for at least the past half hour.</p><p>"Am I...boring you?"</p><p>"Mhm." Karen shakes her head. "Never."</p><p>"Hmm. Well, in that case. Permission to take my beautiful wife to bed?"</p><p>She bites her lip. "To <em> sleep, yes</em>, Mr Murdock. You may take me to bed." She presses the tip of her finger to his nose and whips it back playfully. <em>"Quietly."</em></p><p>Matt nods in agreement and before she can even begin to protest he slips one arm under her thighs, the other staying where it is around her back and he lifts her up.</p><p>"Quietly. Got it." </p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thanks to Thecarelessvoice and Wawalux for the suggestions! I figured "Grace Penelope Murdock" would be cute 🥺</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>So I consulted my very pregnant friend for this one. She informed me of her hatred of meat and all things savory or nutritious 😂 and also told me that her sweet tooth is next level right now, so I went with that 😂 </p><p>And not that you need to know, but my ovaries screamed at me the whole way through writing this 😩🤦</p><p>Thank you to thecarelessvoice for this great prompt!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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